Every Cloud has a Silver Lining
by LadyNightRunner
Summary: Bakura has lost everything he held dear: his little brother, and five others. He cries for an answer, and gets one. Yami Mouto is his 'Guardian Angel', but not quite. He's a Degamelon, and he's handsome. YamixBakura
1. Give me an ANSWER!

Hey there! This is your author, and I want you to know that this story is really proof of my feelings right now. To putit mildly, my life is in the process of turning upside-down and I DO NOT like it. Nope, no tone little bit. Anyway, this will be continued, and I hope you enjoy it. CAIO!

* * *

"WHY? WHY DIDN'T YOU TAKE ME AS WELL?" A mother pulled her two children away from the prone form lying crumpled next to a grave. The children peered over or around their mother's arms to gaze a moment longer at the speaker.

"Mommy? Why is that boy there?" the little girl asked. Her brother nodded.

"I don't know honey. Come on, let's go." She shooed the kids off down the path toward the exit of the cemetery. The boy remained where he was, body shaking with sobs. After securing her young ones in her car, the curious mother went back to the boy. She stepped off the path and gingerly picked her way around muddy patches of ground to the grave and person in question.

"DAMN YOU FOR ETERNITY MIRA! WHY DID YOU SPARE ME? WHY?" the boy screamed again. The woman jumped, unsure if the boy was safe. The way he cried, however, dissolved what doubts she had. He didn't seem much older then her oldest, and to see _him_ like this would have broken her heart.

"Excuse me. Are you alright?" she asked, touching his shoulder. He flinched away from her touch and raised his face to meet eyes with her. Seeing that she meant no harm, he allowed her to pull him to his feet. The position he'd been in on the ground disguised both his height and his build. He was about 5' 10" in height, with a slim but muscular frame. Any high school track coach would have killed for a player with a build like that. He had stark white hair that hung almost halfway down his back, and reddish-brown eyes, red-rimmed from crying. His jaw indicated stubbornness, and his high cheekbones, coupled with the way he carried himself, indicated pride. His skin was pale, and glittered with tears.

"No m'am, I'm not alright." His voice was soft, husky, and held a hint of a British accent; altogether quite pleasing to the ear.

"Why not dear?" she questioned. Two fresh tears traced slivery tracks down to his throat before he answered.

"There are six fresh graves here. The one here belongs to my little brother Ryou. He was murdered before me, and I could do nothing. I also watched his friends die. Yugi, his first and best friend, then Marik and Malik, identical twins who played with them. Then I watched Ishizu and Odion, the elder brother and sister of the twins get slaughtered. _Ryou_ _died in my arms._ The only thing I did about it was to strangle Mira with the self-same chains that she bound me with. The witch left me alone. And so should you." As he spoke, thunder rumbled in the distance, and a light rain began to fall, the raindrops mixing with the tears that now fell freely. The woman turned and left quickly, running with her hands over her head to guard against the rain. The teenager turned back to the grave and threw his head back with a wild ethereal howl. It was the sound of someone whose heart is broken, and who has nothing left. Those who heard these cries that evening would never forget them. "WHY AM I STILL HERE! DO YOU HAVE SOME PLAN FOR ME, THAT YOU WOULDN'T LET ME GO WITH THEM? ANSWER ME! SEND ME A SIGN! ANYTHING! ANYTHING!" Lightning flashed again, much closer this time, and thunder crashed. After the rolling boom had faded, Bakura saw what seemed to be a 'rip' in the sky, and a figure sailed out of it. It hit the duck pond over the edge of the hill with a resounding splash. Curious, the boy jogged over to see what had happened. A soggy being, strangely misshapen, hauled itself out of the water and shook itself off.

"Yowch. Note to self: Practice landings. At least I didn't hit the ground." The boy moved a bit closer, and the person looked up and smiled. "Hi there! You must be Bakura."

"Wh-wh-who are you? How do you know my name? Where did you come from?" Bakura asked, frightened.

"Yami Mouto, at your service. As to how I know your name, I'm your Guardian Angel, and I came directly from the big guy upstairs." As he spoke, Bakura realized what made Yami's back so misshapen. WINGS! Not to mention a heavy cloak, in a shade of deep purple, that hid his features from view. Yami shook himself off again and spread those wings. They were huge, feathery black wings that arced up over Yami's shoulders, and then swept down to just above his ankles. The boy then executed a sort of head-to-toe shiver that fluffed his feathers. There was really no point in doing so; the rain plastered them right back down.

"Guardian Angel?" Bakura asked, confused.

"Yup. You called, and I've been assigned to you. Please don't call me an angel. I'm not really one to begin with."

"Then what are you?"

"I'm what you get when a demon falls in love and mates with an angel. I believe the term is 'Degamolen', but I'm not overly fond of the title. I prefer to be called Yami."

"Doesn't that mean Darkness or something like that?" Bakura asked.

"Yeah, and it's rather fitting."

"Are you supposed to stay with me?" Bakura questioned. The thought of having such an interesting persona as his houseguest was sufficient to cheer him up somewhat.

"You got it. I'm a solid being until further notice."

"But- your wings?" Bakura said. Yami shook his head.

"That's not a problem." Just as he'd said, the wings disappeared, and Yami laughed at Bakura's expression.

"How'd you- where'd they- ACHOO!" Yami chuckled. Bakura found comfort in that voice. It was deep and had a slight rumble to it, putting him in mind of a grizzly bear. He wondered what Yami looked like. He sneezed another three times in succession and stumbled, rubbing his eyes and cursing like a sailor in several languages.

"Such language! We should get home; you don't want to get sicker than you already are."

"But I'm not sick. Just-ACHOO!"

"Yeah, sure. You aren't sick and I'm human. Come on, let's get you home." Bakura sneezed again. He was starting to shiver. Yami noticed this, and pulled his cloak off. What this act revealed made Bakura freeze in place. Yami had glittering red eyes, colored like rubies, or freshly spilt blood. His hair was a wildly spiked mass around his head, sort of like a star, but not really. Mostly, it was black, but the spikes were edged with red, and his bangs, which framed his face in a slightly lopsided way, were a brilliant blonde.

"Y-Y-Yugi?" he whispered. Yami shook his head.

"No Bakura, I'm not Yugi."

"But…you look so much like him!"

"I know that. We share blood, technically, but that bond has been stretched over more than 5,000 years. The hair is the only remaining proof of that particular bonding."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. But I'll tell you this: Yugi, and his friends, want you to know that they love you. And Ryou said that he won't forget about you, but if you've forgotten about him when the time comes that he'll kill you a second time. He also said that he's watching over you from up there."

"They really…really said that? You spoke with them? They went to…to paradise?" Bakura started to cry again.

"Yes, they said that, and yes, they went straight to heaven." Yami smiled gently. It was then that Bakura realized that Yami actually had to look _up_ to look him in the face. In truth, the male was almost four inches shorter than Bakura was. He started laughing. "What's so funny?" Yami asked.

"You're kinda short. I thought-ACHOO!" It was Yami's turn to laugh.

"Come on. Put this on, and let's go home." Yami draped the cloak neatly over Bakura's head and back. Due to the fact that it had somewhat covered his wings, the cloak went almost to Bakura's ankles. "Lead on."

"You don't know where I live?" Bakura asked, heading toward the gates. Yami shook his head.

"I was told to get a move on, and didn't get much info on you, except about why you needed a Guardian, and what you looked like, and what your name is. That's all I was told." Bakura smiled and pulled the cloak closer around himself.

"I hope you don't mind walking. I didn't feel like driving today."

"No problem. I'll have to get used to walking sooner or later. If both of us get through this alive, I may be eligible for an actual, permanent body." Yami said, looking hopeful.

"What do you mean by 'get through this alive'?" Bakura asked, turning to look Yami in the face. As a result, he tripped on the curb, and Yami had to catch him.

"One of the reasons I'm here is to make sure that you don't do anything stupid, like killing yourself, or something like that."

"Great. Race you to the end of the block!" Bakura took off in the direction of the crosswalk that marked the end of the block.

"Hey! That's not fair! You had a head start, and my legs are shorter than yours!" Yami yelled, chasing after his charge. To the casual onlooker, they just looked like a couple of teenagers goofing off in the rain. Which is essentially what they are right now.


	2. Secrets and hidden qualities

Well, isn't this a surprise! I'm actually adding a chappie! Now, I've got a bit of news for all of you who read Ranma 1/2 stories. There's one out called 'Equalities and Likenesses'. My little sister posted it, but I typed it, edited it, re-did it, and helped her come up with more than half of the damn story. I did this with the agreement that she would give me credit when it was posted. Well, guess what. She didn't, adn now she claims that she never made any promises!Oh, and did I mention? She doesn't meet the age requirement! Please don't read, or if you do, tell her what a brat she's being. (It's not that good anyway!)

* * *

/At Bakura's house/ "Here, catch!" Bakura threw a fluffy towel at Yami. Yami had been unbuckling his boots, and looked up just in time to get the flying towel full in the face.

"You're terrible!" He began toweling his hair off. Bakura did the same for himself, and then started laughing when Yami twisted around and tried to dry his wings off. "What's so funny?" Yami asked.

"Do you want help?" Bakura asked. "Looks like you're having a bit of trouble." Yami stuck his tongue out at the taller boy.

"Thank you Captain Obvious. Yes, I could use some help." Bakura grinned and walked over to give Yami's wings a brisk rubdown. "Thanks."

"No problem. Um…I don't think Ryou would mind if you slept in his old room."

"Actually, I didn't intend to tell you, but he gave me permission to sleep in there anyway." Bakura chuckled.

"That's just like him. He probably assumed that I wouldn't let anyone in there, in honor of his memory." He sneezed.

"Regardless of that, you should put some dry clothes on. I'll stay down here." Bakura nodded and sneezed as he left._ Now the _real_ work starts. I just hope that _this_ time I don't royally screw things up. This guy is too important for that. _Yami thought. Once he was sure that the shower was on, he pulled a trunk out of thin air and surveyed its contents. After some obvious thought, he selected a pair of black jeans and closed the trunk once more, pushing it out of the way. When Bakura had finished showering, he went back downstairs to find his Guardian sound asleep on the couch. Unable to resist a chance at a joke, he crept closer to the couch, then leaped up from beside it with a yell. Yami's response was to leap to his feet, giving voice to a blood-curdling war cry and then to drop into a defensive position, hands balled into fists in the absence of something else.

_Judging by his posture, I'd say he's a knife wielder._ Bakura thought. _He seems quite good. I don't think _I_ could move that fast._

"Don't scare me like that! I could've-"

"Gutted me before I could say 'boo', right?"

"How could you tell?"

"Several reasons: One, your posture is that of someone skilled with a knife. Two, your hands were in fists only because you didn't have something else to hold in them, most likely a good blade. Three, that's a position only a knife fighter would use. Four, the calluses on your knuckles aren't old, so you aren't a practiced fist-fighter. Five, you have the tiny scars on your hands that are collected during training in the use of fighting knives. And, six, I can always tell another of my kind." Noting Yami's confused expression, Bakura dropped into the same crouch, and brought his hands up to protect his face. Held in each hand was a sturdy knife. Yami cracked up.

"Oh, that's too good! I should have _known_!" he cried, rolling on the floor, clutching his ribs and laughing like a hyena.

"What, may I ask, is so funny?" Bakura asked dryly.

"Well…you see, a Guardian is usually assigned to someone who is like them. When I got here, I wasn't really sure how we were similar. They picked the one attribute that they haven't been able to match to _anyone_ for nearly one thousand years, my knife work!"

"I take it there aren't many up there who can fight with the knives?" Bakura asked, interested.

"Are you _kidding _me? _Nobody_ up there can fight with a knife!"

"Then where'd you learn?"

"I said I was half demon, right?"

"Oh."

"Enough said. D'you mind if I shower?"

"No, go right ahead. If the hot water shuts off, kicking the wall helps. I need to do some maintenance on the water heater when I get the time."

"Okay." This said, Yami headed upstairs. Bakura put some soup on the stove to defrost and flopped on the couch. He was reading the 'Pendragon' series (I love these books!), and only paused in his eager reading to sneeze. Several times he heard the familiar thumping noise that meant that Yami was kicking the wall, and, if the muffled yelling was any indication, he was also trying to reason with the stubborn water heater. Bakura managed to make out several of the louder curses. He was mildly impressed by his Guardian's language. Yami returned to the living room almost 45 minutes later. He'd hidden his wings again, and he was shirtless. Bakura wasn't really surprised, as he had the same habit. Besides, he'd seen shirtless males countless times. He was a lifeguard for heaven's sake! He _did_ pay attention, however, when Yami's back was turned to him. The Degamelon was selecting a shirt from his trunk. It wasn't what he was _doing_ that caught Bakura's attention. It was the markings on Yami's back. Bakura gaped, and only managed to catch himself when Yami turned around and pulled on a shirt.

"Ready for dinner?" Bakura asked, and sneezed.

"Mmhm. Sorry I took so long. I'm as bad as a woman when it comes to shower time."

"Don't worry about it. I do the same thing." Yami laughed, and then noted the expression on Bakura's face.

"What?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing." Bakura said quickly. Too quickly.

"You saw my marks, didn't you?" Yami whispered. Bakura nodded dumbly. He had the feeling that he had just gotten a lot more that he'd bargained for. "That is something we will discuss on a later date. Cheer up, I'm not mad at you. You were bound to see them some time, and I suppose sooner is better then later."

/After supper, and after Yami force-fed Bakura some cold medicine/ "Alright. I suggest that you get some sleep. It ought to help get rid of that cold."

"I'm n-ACHOO!"

"Not sick, right? I'll believe _that_ when I don't have wings. Bed."

"You can be awfully annoying, did you realize?"

"Yup. I'm just that way. Now, good night." Yami said forcefully, dragging Bakura toward the stairs.

"Okay, okay. I'm going, no need to be pushy!" Feigning annoyance, the white-haired young man wriggled out of his guardian's grip and stomped up the stairs, Yami right behind him.

"Er…this might not be the best time to explain, but…uh"

"Spit it out." Bakura encouraged

"Well…I sleepwalk…and…I talk in my sleep. So, if you hear something at night, it's probably me."

"Heh. Yugi used to sleepwalk too. Good night" Bakura contemplated the sudden turn his life had taken as he climbed into bed that night. He decided that it was a good change, and was asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. He slept soundly, instead of being plagued by nightmares, as he had been in recent weeks.

4


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